


No One Needs To Know

by A_Winter



Series: Torn [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-03 23:43:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10977861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Winter/pseuds/A_Winter
Summary: We re-join Bilbo in the Shire, Donna's starting to ask difficult questions about her Adad and Bilbo's not too sure how to handle them so he simply refuses to speak of it. At least until Belladonna Baggins takes matters into her own hands





	1. Something’s missing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Lovelies, this is still very rough and Unbeta-ed so please be kind but also let me know if it seems rushed or weird or anything because I want it to feel right.

Belladonna (just Donna thank you very much!) Aivielis Baggins was named after her Maimeó on her Da’s side and her Farmor, though her Da would not talk much of her Adad and his family. She’d learnt the origin of her middle name from one of her Dwarvish Uncles and from the stories she’d been told the names were a perfect fit. Donna was a child of mixed parentage, the only one in the entirety of the Shire in fact. Her Da was a Hobbit, and a perfectly respectable one at that… at least when the neighbours were watching. Her Adad was a Dwarf, just like her Uncles but Donna had never met him. She knew his name, Thorin Oakenshield, and new that her Da had run away to follow him on an adventure, (which of course she found so incredibly romantic) but that was all she really knew. Her Da refused to speak of him, if Donna brought him up his eyes would get this sad faraway look in them and he’d just shake his head as though all words had left him. The inquisitive child had often tried to ask her Dwarven uncles when they visited but they were equally tight lipped, originally Donna had figured her Adad was dead but as she grew older she suspected otherwise. Each year her Da would receive a letter, a letter which Donna was not allowed to read and her Da would spirit away from her. Her Da received a lot of letters but these ones were always delivered by Roἂl the Raven, who never stayed waiting for a response. Da would get that same faraway sad look when he saw Roἂl and he’s spend the rest of the day silently stroking Dahlia, their raven. Donna believed that those letters were sent by her Adad and each year she tried to intercept the raven and get to the letter before her Da to confirm, she had yet to succeed and she was now quickly approaching her thirtieth birthday. 

Despite only being 3 years from her Hobbit majority Donna was still considered a child by many, especially her family, as her Dwarven heritage made her age slowly and still appear to many as though she belonged in her early tweens. This didn’t usually bother Donna except when other Hobbits pointed her out or excluded her. Hobbits didn’t cope well with things that were different and Different was definitely what Donna was. 

Her family called her their little Dwobbit, Dwarf-Hobbit, princess which once used to brighten her days but now caused her to wrinkle her nose in embarrassment. The other Hobbits tweens and young adults would often call her a Nobbit, Not-Hobbit, or some other more creative insults and names. Donna tried not to let it get to her but she couldn’t help it, she didn’t look like a hobbit but nor did she particularly look like a Dwarf. 

Donna had jet black hair, uncommon for Hobbits especially the Baggins and Took families, which fell in tight curls and ringlets down her back in proper Hobbitish fashion. Or it would if Donna didn’t usually insist on a variety of unique and intricate braids keeping it under tight control, some her uncles and her Da had taught her and others Donna had simply made up. She would often force her cousin Frodo to put them in for her if she couldn’t reach and together they’d braid flowers into her hair, Frodo would grumble but Donna knew he secretly liked to help her with them. 

Donna had perfectly Hobbity ears that curved to a gentle point and large, often startlingly blue eyes. Though her Da didn’t have blue eyes, cousin Frodo did so Donna wasn’t sure if she’d inherited them from her Ada or not. Though other Hobbits often became startles and uncomfortable if she and Frodo looked at them together for any notable length of time. 

Donna considered herself to have an average Hobbit face, she certainly lacked the broadness of her Dwarven uncles and she had yet to see any indications of facial hair, though her uncles would just mutter about time if she mentioned it. What she lacked though was the roundness that indicated a healthy Hobbit both in her cheeks and stomach. Donna believed herself healthy, the Shire healers had yet to find a cause for her thinness and she certainly held a Hobbit’s appetite… when she remembered to eat, but her body refused to store the excess as a Hobbit should. Donna enjoyed eating, and she ate plenty when she had a mind to but both she and her Da had adopted more of a Dwarven eating schedule of 3 large meals daily over the Hobbitish 7. Of course there were days when they’d eat 7, more days when they’d settle on 5 if they were having visitors but otherwise they were both happy enough to miss those extra meals in favour of doing Something. Donna often got bored and often spent her time with Frodo and his friends or exploring the Shire and as far afield as she’d dare. The young Dwobbit also collected things; stones, flowers, coins, shells, all sorts of things. Anything which caught her eye was brought home and preserved before being displayed around her room on the many, many, many shelves she’d had her Da and Uncles put up over the years for her silly little treasures. Pride of place was held, however, by her first pair of boots. 

That was the other odd thing about Donna, she was soft-soled, usually a worrying sign in a Hobbit faunt, indicating sickness, but apparently normal for a Dwarven child. Donna had black curls dusting the tops of her feet but could often not walk without boots, her feet often cut by stones. The rebellious girl would often do so anyway and roam about with her smaller than average, soft-soled feet on display ad she danced through meadows and paddled in streams but eventually her feet would ache or the stares of the Hobbits would get to her and she’d again don her boots. 

That was how Cousin Frodo found her today, her aching feet dangling in the icy water of the River Running after she’d spent most of the day trekking through the south fields without her boots. Frodo dropped down beside her, boots in hand, and slipped his own feet into the water. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Frodo was one of the few people Donna felt truly at ease with, he was as close to a brother as Donna could get. He’d moved in with their family many years ago when his parents had passed away but her cousin had always been a presence in her life even before that. He never judged her for begin different, always jumped to her defence against those who did. 

“Uncle Bilbo’s worried about you.”

“One day I’m going to find him Frodo, I don’t know why Da doesn’t want me to know about him but it’s like half of me is missing…” Donna muttered as Frodo began to unconsciously undo her braids, it was a common enough discussion and not one that required much input on the young lad’s side. “I just wish he’d tell me about him, or let my uncles do it.”

“He had his reasons, adults usually do. Maybe he’s waiting for your majority.” Donna levelled Frodo a look but he simply turned her head again and began to comb out her curls with his fingers.

“My Hobbit Majority or Dwarven? I’m not waiting until I’m Seventy…” Frodo hummed non-committedly “I may not have to… Frodo can you keep a secret.” A sharp tug to one of her curls told her what he thought of that question. “Ouch! Okay, will you keep it then… from Da?”

“What have you done Donna” Frodo stopped playing with her hair and levelled Donna a stern look, the curls brushing against her back felt foreign after so long with her braids in. 

“I sent Dahlia to Erebor with a letter for my Adad, I told Da I was writing to Uncle Bofur.” 

“Donna!” Frodo looked at her with questioning eyes, he looked as though he were ready to shake her. 

“I need to know him Frodo, I need to know he’s alive.”  
“And if he is? Then what? He might not even know he has a daughter,”

“That’s okay, I didn’t really say anything like that. I invited him to tea…” Donna tried to smile but failed. 

“Okay so some random Hobbit is asking a random Dwarf who may or not be her father to tea… Is that about it?” As Donna refused to meet Frodo’s eye the piercing blue orbs narrowed “What did you do?” 

“Well he wouldn’t accept an invite from a random Hobbit, but if he Is my Father he may accept an invitation to tea from Da.” This time Frodo did shake her, gently. 

“Donna are you insane? You forged a letter from Uncle Bilbo? And now you want me to lie about it? I can’t do that Donna, I’d do almost anything for you but I can’t do that to Uncle Bilbo and you shouldn’t be able to either. Think about it, how Uncle Bilbo would react if this Dwarf is your father and he turns up at Bag End? You’ve seen what he’s like with the letters alone, did you even think about how much this may hurt him?!” Donna pulled away from Frodo and rose to her feet

“I need to know Frodo; if it was a chance with your parents wouldn’t you?” Donna regretted the words as soon as she said them, Frodo never spoke of his parents “I’m sorry Frodo, I wasn’t thinking…”

The older lad took a deep breath and shook his head “When did you send Dahlia? Maybe we can intercept her…” Donna shook her head, guilt finally sinking in as she considered her Da’s reaction to what she’d done. 

“I sent her months ago; I expected her back some time ago. Do you truly think Da will be upset with me?” For all Donna was close to her Majority by Hobbit standards she was still very much a child by Dwarven ones and Frodo shook his head. Times like these he realised how young in heart she was. 

“Let’s just go confess to Uncle Bilbo, last thing we want if for Dwarves to invite themselves to tea again.” Donna nodded and without bothering to re-braid her hair she slipped on her boots and the pair raced back towards Bagend.

 

 

A/N: I know; you all know exactly where this is going…


	2. Two for Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo opens the door to...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.....

Bilbo was pottering around his Smial humming softly to himself when the knocking came, he had some scones in the oven for later and had just sent Frodo down to find Donna and give the silly Lass her boots. They weren’t expecting company but Bilbo didn’t mind, he expected it to be Hamfast or one of his lads looking for Frodo anyway. Hanging his apron over the back of a chair as the heavy knocking sounded again Bilbo made for the door, he didn’t think about the weight behind the knock as he swung the door open with a smile. At least not until his eyes met startlingly familiar blue and the door was forcefully swung shut again with a bang. Eyes wide with near panic Bilbo leant against the wall even as the knocking resumed with an achingly familiar call of “Bilbo…”

A war instantly began within Bilbo, old fear warring with sadness and persistent hope. The same hope that had him reading and keeping every letter Thorin had ever sent, but Bilbo had not forgotten the pain of Thorin’s hands on his body; the feeling of fists raised in anger, the nights left alone and heartbroken as he feared for what had become of his husband. Images of their past flashed before Bilbo’s eyes, the journey, their wedding, the carrock and the Arkenstone; Bilbo felt his body shake and tears filled his eyes even as he crumpled with his back against the door. 

Bilbo had not let himself think of Thorin much over the years, even though looking at their daughter made his chest ache more and more with each passing day. Bilbo had only managed a glimpse at Thorin before he’d slammed the door on the King but even so he could tell that the years had been kind to the Dwarf who still stood knocking on the other side of his green round door. 

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo tried to get himself under control, his heart was racing and his body was shaking. He knew that his breathing was not as even as it should be, this was not the first time Bilbo had suffered a panic attack though it had been many years. They were more frequent in the later years in Erebor and the first 10 years after returning to the Shire. Donna and Frodo had help him keep them under control though, knowing that he had to keep it together for the young faunts who depended on him helped to force the paralysisng fear away but that had been fear from what ifs and nightmares. Not even the thought of his daughter and nephew hindered the overwhelming fear at the knowledge that Thorin, King of Bilbo’s Nightmares, was in fact on the other side of a suddenly flimsy feeling green door. 

“Bilbo Please…” came a voice, surprisingly gentle though loud enough to carry through the wood. 

“Thorin…” Bilbo croaked, his voice coming out hoarse and shallow as he swallowed thickly. “What are you doing here?”

A slip of worn parchment was pressed through the thin gap beneath the door, Bilbo hesitated a moment before he reached out tentatively and unfolded the missive. 

 

Master Thorin Oakenshield  
Erebor

There are matters we need to discuss; you are invited to tea at your earliest convenience.  
Tea is served at 2:00pm.

B. Baggins

 

“I thought perhaps Mahal had finally heard my prayers and that perhaps I was being offered a chance… to apologise or to redeem myself… Bilbo?”

Bilbo was silently staring at invitation, written on his own stationary in an admirable forgery of his own hand but it took little effort of Bilbo’s part to recognise the slight curving of certain letters and hesitation to others. Bilbo’s mind went to a little girl with black curls who was about to be grounded and he froze, the idea of Thorin meeting Donna terrifying him more than he’d thought possible. 

“You Invited me Bilbo, was it only to torture me?” The voice sounded far away as the panic flared up again, stronger than before.

He’d spent so long ensuring that the Dwarven king never learn of Donna or even that Bilbo was again gifted with the ability to seed a child, the thought of Thorin’s madness rearing up and laying claim to Donna made Bilbo feel cold. Only Bofur knew of Donna’s true parentage, her slow aging helping to keep the secret of when she was conceived, but it would not be hard to recognise the familiar hair, eyes and jaw. Not if one was really looking. 

“I… I’ve changed my mind,” Bilbo’s voice waivered, he couldn’t let Thorin realise there was another B. Baggins, “Just go back to your mountain, please just go!”

Bilbo heard a thump and felt the door behind his back shudder, but before the Hobbit could think further on it he heard the familiar crunch of gravel beneath boots, though these were heavier steps than Donna’s, and he could finally breathe. Or at least that was what he had intended to do, however on his deep inhale something caught in the Hobbit’s throat and Bilbo began to cough. Once he began he found himself quite unable to stop, Bilbo looked around and wondered to when his smial had become quite so hazy. Mind moving sluggishly rose to his feet, knees aching and suddenly he Hobbit was unsure of exactly how long he’d been crumpled on the floor. Shuffling slowly Bilbo moved into his smial but the haze quickly became smoke, the Hobbit turned towards his kitchen and cursed. 

The Scones. 

Adrenaline flooding his system Bilbo ran to the kitchen an threw open the oven door, a mistake he’d later regret as the flood of oxygen caused the smouldering remains of the baked goods to erupt into flames as the air fed the flame. Bilbo tried to close the oven door on the flames but only succeeded in burning his hand and the fire searched for more fuel. Bilbo grabbed a nearby towel, ignoring the pain blossoming across his palm and attempted to smother the flames but cloth caught alight and Bilbo was forced to drop it. Another mistake he’d regret as the fire began to spread.

Bilbo swore and began running the water in his sink as he grabbed the nearest pot and tried to fill it, all the while breathing and coughing through the ever growing smoke. A banging resounded in Bilbo’s head but he wasn’t sure if the source was inside out outside his own mind as his lids grew heavy and his lungs began to burn. The Hobbit grabbed the pot now filled with water and again tried to dowse the flames, this time with limited success but his rapidly weakening state meant he was unable to lift the pot to fill again. 

Body sweating and mind reeling Bilbo fell to his knees, he knew he should get out but his body was no longer listening to him. The banging was getting louder as Bilbo felt his eyes flutter closed; each breath was agony as Bilbo slipped to the floor even as he heard a crash somewhere within the smial. Bilbo’s thought wandered as the darkness closed in, at least Donna and Frodo were not home. Frodo was a few weeks from his majority so he’d look after Donna until she was ready and as much as he hated to admit it Bilbo was glad he’d had a chance to see Thorin one last time. 

The piercing blue eyes shared by the three people he loved most in the world following him even after the darkness claimed the Hobbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OMG THAT WAS NO WHAT HAPPENED THE FIRST TIME I WROTE THIS CHAPTER…The first time was all like fluffy I missed you snoggy kisses... but it didn't feel right so you got this... sorry


	3. More than Skin deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's POV

Fire and smoke were things Dwarves knew well and Thorin, despite being the King of Erebor was not different. In fact, he knew fire better than many due to the Drake that had once taken his home and the many years which followed. Thorin knew Dragon fire just as he knew camp fires and the flames which fuelled his forges but it was none of these that he should have been looking for. 

Thorin supposed that he could be forgiven his oversight, some would at least. The fact that he didn’t pick up the subtle smell of kitchen smoke on the other side of a round green door, the same door which separated him from his one, would haunt Thorin for years to come. 

Bilbo had pleaded with him to leave, sent him away and dashed the Kings raised hopes. He’d allowed himself a moment of weakness and dropped his head against the memorable wood, he knew that if he truly wanted to he could break the thing down but how would that prove to Bilbo that he’d changed? Defeated Thorin had turned and walked back towards the street, he’d paused a few minutes before heading down the road again. He’d made arrangements for rooms in Bree for himself and his escort but Thorin had little desire to return at this time though he had little idea where else he might go. 

Thorin was hesitating at the bottom of the hill, trying to decide on a path to go when he heard the first shout.

“Fire!” Thorin turned with a sinking feeling in his gut, praying anyone who’d listen that it not be Bagend but his eyes found the tick grey smoke easily and indeed it came from the smial at the top of the Hill with its familiar green door. 

Thorin bolted back up the hill, he could see Hobbits milling around in confusion and worry. There was an older Hobbit banging on the door yelling for Bilbo but there was no response. Thorin’s body went cold, he saw the smoke billow but had yet to see flames so he tried to focus on that. Running to the door he indicated that the older Hobbit should stand away before he threw his entire body against the door, it took three goes before the door crashed under Thorin’s weight. The smoke exploded out the door in thick black plumes but Thorin ignored it, his eyes searching for a small familiar figure with gentle copper curls. 

“Bilbo!” Thorin called, praying for an answer but receiving none. He prowled from room to room until he finally reached the kitchen. If it weren’t for the flames, growing in strength having lay claim to the curtains and cloth of the room, Thorin doubted he would have seen through the dark smoke. Thankfully it only took him a few moments to find Bilbo, far too close to the flames for anyone’s liking. The Dwarf raced forward, scooped up his unconscious one and made for the door. As Thorin ran out other Hobbit with pails of water ran in and with determination effectively began to neutralise the flames but Thorin’s eyes were focused on the shallow rise and fall of Bilbo’s chest. 

Once out of the smial Thorin took Bilbo and lay him down gently on the seat of his bench, and older Hobbit woman approached with a large bag and began silently tending to the Hobbit. Thorin reached out to stroke Bilbo’s pair but paused and truly looked at his Hobbit for the first time in what felt like an age. 

Time had been kinder to Bilbo than Thorin had ever hoped, he knew that by Hobbit standard Bilbo should be old and frail being only a few short decades from the age of the oldest Hobbit in history. However Thorin’s Bilbo did not look old or frail in the slightest, currently he looked pale and weak with his body covered in ash but still young. Thirty years and the Hobbit had barely aged, he sported a few more lines around his eyes and mouth and more grey speckled through his copper locks but he was still the picture of beauty to Thorin. 

Thorin turned to the healer, ready to ask of Bilbo’s condition when voices caught his attention. 

“Da??!!!”  
“Uncle Bilbo?!”

Two young Hobbitlings burst from the crowd of bystanders and sprinted to the prone Hobbit, Thorin was stunned as the lad began to badger the healer with questions while the lass dropped to her knees, grabbed Bilbo’s hands and began to weep. 

The girl looked to be about 50years for a Dwarrow so perhaps 20years for a Hobbit, her loose black curls were about all Thorin could see as she clung to Bilbo and suddenly her cry penetrated Thorin’s thick stone head. 

Da…

Thorin was stunned and time seemed to freeze. Bilbo had a daughter. Probably a new spouse and a whole troupe of children now, no wonder he had been so reluctant once he’d seen Thorin. Thorin shook his head and berated himself for his foolishness having expected Bilbo to still be waiting around for a Damned Dwarrow who’d caused him nothing but pain. As the Hobbit gawkers slowly began to dissipate Thorin too slipped away, intent to return to his rooms in Bree and get himself roaringly drunk before returning to his cold mountain without his one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote both Chapter 2&3 today... because you lot inspire me! <3 
> 
> P.S. Poor Thorin... He was an ass but he does care about Bilbo and he was sick... it wasn't 100% his fault.... it was 100% my fault because I'm a horrible person but .... well... I have no excuse really.....


	4. Why?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin never quite made it to Bree, the urge to drown his sorrows leading him to the first watering hole he could find. Luckily for Donna as she seeks him out.

If there was one word about all other that Donna Aivielis Baggins hated above and beyond all others it was Why. Donna found that all through her life the word why followed her and she was never satisfied with the answers provided. Why was she different? Why did she have to where her boots? Why didn’t her Ada write or come to see her? Why did Da look so sad when he thought no one was looking? Why did Da have scars the other Hobbits did not? Why did Frodo lose his parents? Why did Da have to get hurt in that fire? Why, why, why, why!? There was never a good enough answer to Why questions and Donna hated that, she hated that she often the cause of them for her family. Why did you hit your cousin? Because he called me names... Why does she look so young? Because I am different... Why does she braid her hair all the time? Because my Uncles taught me how… Why do you cause your Da so much worry? I don’t mean to… Why don’t you just think? I’m sorry…

Da never asks Donna why questions, at least not the way other do. He’d ask her what and how and when. He’d try to understand and always smile at the way her young mind worked but Donna wasn’t sure he’d smile at her for what she’d done this time. Da was sleeping under the watchful eye of Mistress Gamgee and Estella Bracegirdle the Shire’s Healer, Estella had given Da something to make him sleep but she didn’t seem overly concerned about his condition though he had some nasty burns. The healer had told Donna of the Dwarf who’d saved her father from the fire, if the young Dwobbit had been less focused on her Da then she would have seen him herself but that familiar flicker of hope lit up her chest and while her Da was sleeping peacefully Donna snuck out to find his saviour and the Dwarf who may be her Adad. 

It was not hard to track a Dwarf in the Shire, they tended to make an impact and being a Baggins from Bagend, with the associated reputation and history with Dwarves, most Hobbits gave her directions with a resigned sigh or a shake of their head. Eventually she made her way to The Green Dragon Inn, it shouldn’t have surprised her really but it did. The young Baggin’s had prepared herself to go searching for a camp through the woods or follow horse tracks or begin a trek to Bree but instead she walked into the Inn and immediately her eyes found what they sought. In a far corner of the common room was a darkly brooding figure nursing what looked to be a flagon of ale, Donna slowly made her way towards the lone Dwarf though she stopped to exchange curt pleasantries with those who asked after her Da. The staff behind the bar gave her an assessing glance, Donna knew they’d keep an eye on her most of the night because of her apparent youth as it was not uncommon for young tweens to visit the Green Dragon and attempt to swipe a drink or two. Donna didn’t mind, she’d done so herself before and found she didn’t care for the taste of alcohol or the effect it had on her the following morning. 

Donna soon stood at the table where the Dwarf sat, if he was aware of her presence he did not make and show of it but she noted the tense posture and assumed he hoped she’d simply go away. Balling up her courage and all the stubbornness she had in her small frame Donna slid into the seat across from the brooding, silent Dwarf and waited as long as she could for a response; as long as she could turned out to be all of about 5 seconds. 

“Hi,” She chirped about the hum of chatter within the inn, she knew she sounded a bit hysterical but the Dwarf did not acknowledge her. Donna cleared her throat and took a deep breath “I am Belladonna Baggins, I prefer Donna though… I believe I owe you my thanks for assisting my father today.”

The Dwarf finally looked up and Donna was stunned, she never really knew what to expect from the Dwarf who might be her father but supposed she’d figured he’d look much like her uncle Bofur. This Dwarf looked nothing like her Uncle. 

He had dark hair hidden beneath the hood he wore; a deep brown or perhaps black like her own locks but she could not be sure in the dim light of the inn though she could see evidence of greying at his temples and towards the crown of his head. She couldn’t see how the hair was held but suspected braids, mostly because her Uncles always spoke of braids. He had a beard which was also speckled with grey, what dwarf did not support some kind of facial hair?, but it was closely cropped which surprised Donna as her Dwarven Uncles had always stressed the importance of a Dwarrow’s hair. However it was his eyes that truly caught Donna by surprise, it was as though she was looking into a mirror. The young Dwobbit felt a shudder run through her at the piercing blue that looked at her assessing as though they could see every secret she’d ever held and suddenly she understood why other Hobbits found hers and Frodo’s gazes disconcerting. The Dwarf had a large nose, strong jaw and rounded ears so unlike her own but Donna knew within her that this was her Adad and was unable to stop the bright smile which broke across her face even as the Dwarf’s own age lined face fell into a scowl. 

“I’ve no idea what you speak of, leave me and be on your way child.” Donna huffed at the dismissal but persevered; she was half Dwarf herself and could be just as stone headed as he could. 

“You are Thorin Oakenshield,” She tried not to smirk at the brief expression of shocked suspicion “My Da is Bilbo Baggins, he ran off with you on an adventure once and today you saved him from a fire at our home.”

“Wrong Dwarf” Master Oakenshield tried to focus on his drink but Donna pushed on

“I am not a silly little Faunt Master Oakenshield, exactly home many Dwarfs do you think have visited the Shire in the last ten years? You would be the third and the other two I know well. I do not know why you are pretending to be someone else but I do owe you my thanks for saving my father. If you are curious he is doing well, a few burns but it would have been much worse if not for you.” 

“It never would have happened if not for me, I do not want your thanks Miss Baggins as it is my fault the fire started in the first place.” The Dwarf snapped and Donna gasped. “Apologies, it has been a long day. I must be off as I have rooms waiting for me in Bree…” The Dwarf stood and bowed slightly before turning to leave. Donna scrambled out of her chair and grabbed his arm. 

“You can’t make for Bree at this time of night; it is too far and too dark. You’ll get hurt” The Dwarf pulled his arm from her grasp with ease. 

“I have a pony; it is not all that far. My companion is waiting for me, we will be returning home tomorrow.” He said gruffly as he walked from the inn but Donna chased after him. 

“The road between here and Bree is treacherous as night, you would risk irreversible damage to your mount. Stay in the Shire tonight, you can stay with us and still meet your companion tomorrow.” Donna used her blue eyes to her advantage and gave the Dwarf her best pleading look, it always worked on Uncle Bofur and he’d grumble about Fili and Kili back in Erebor. Donna had never met the pair but according to her Uncles she’d like them very much, the stories they told of the pairs antics on the journey always made her smile. 

“That look may work on some but I am immune, my nephews have relied on it far too long” 

“Fine, I’ll just walk all the way back home… alone… in the dark” Donna let her voice waiver as though afraid and watched the Dwarf twitch. “A young girl, without an escort… anything could happen…” She knew she’d won when his shoulders fell in defeat. 

“I will escort you home but that is it” 

“Of course!” Donna chirped and began skipping along the road home with her silent Dwarven companion, aware of his ever assessing gaze. 

“You wear boots” He muttered after several minutes of listening to Donna’s pointless chatter about the shire as they walked, it wasn’t a question but a statement of fact and Donna nodded.

“Sometimes, but I try not to for short walks. They take a bit of getting used to.” Donna smiled before she proudly stated “My Uncle made them for me.” 

“I had not expected any Hobbit’s within the Shire to be familiar with the making of boots, they appear to be quite sturdy” Donna giggled loudly, the sound light in the darkness. 

“It wasn’t any of my Hobbit Uncles; they’re at a loss with my feet. My Uncle Bifur made them for me last time he visited but I’m worried that I’ll grow out of them again.” The Dwarf seemed to take a moment to truly look at the boots Donna wore with an unreadable expression. 

“You have fairly small feet for a Hobbit…” Once again a statement, Donna frowned as the got closer to Bagend. 

“That’s because I’m only half a Hobbit, I truly am a Halfling” The laugh she forced out this time was sad and pained, but she kept her step light in an attempt to mask it. She did not expect the firm, warm hand which wrapped around her wrist and brought her to a stop. Donna looked up into Thorin Oakenshield’s eyes and saw sadness and pain echoed there. 

“Do not say such things; the daughter of Bilbo Baggins should hold her head up with pride. Your father did my people a great service many years ago, he is honourable and kind and I see the same in you.”

“You don’t even know me…” Donna whispered, her eyes burning with tears she couldn’t explain

“I don’t need to. You searched me out to that me for assisting Bilbo, even when I refused. You offered me shelter without thought when you realised I would ride in the night. You are your father’s daughter and I am sure he and your mother are proud.” Donna swallowed and nodded, trying to keep her unreasonable tears under control. 

They resumed walking but after a few minutes of silence she whispered in the dark “I don’t have a mother,” 

“I’m sorry…” Donna stopped his apology with a negating hum. 

“I’ve never had a mother; my Da carried my seed…” Donna smiled; it was a special relationship between a child and their Seed Parent, a connection from their first moment until their last.

“Oh, then you’d have a…?” The Dwarf seemed unsure

“A Planter Parent, the one who assisted Da in growing me…” Thorin nodded awkwardly, “I should have but no, Da seeded and planted me alone. I know I have an Adad out there somewhere but Da won’t tell me who he is, my Uncle Bofur seems to know who it is but he won’t tell me either but I do know that my Adad is a Dwarf like you.” Donna wanted to say that she believed Thorin to be her Planter Father but the stunned look on the Dwarf’s face stilled her tongue.

The walked the rest of the way in silence, Donna was met at the door by an exasperated Frodo though she noted the cheeky glint in his eye as he spotted the Dwarf escorting her. 

“Thank you for walking me home Master Oakenshield, I felt much safer.” She elbowed Frodo when he began to chortle behind her. “I do home you reconsider leaving the Shire, I would love to meet with you again. Perhaps for Tea?” The Dwarf’s head shot up and his eyes went wide as Frodo lead Donna inside. A softly echoed “Oooh…” following them through the night.


	5. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo explains his past to Donna and Frodo, that though he'd told them the truth of his adventures some important parts were missing... anything with Thorin to be exact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters per day for 2 days... Aren't I so nice?!

Bilbo was released from the watchful eyes of the Shire’s healer and Belle Gamgee the following morning with strict instructions to rest and take things slowly, easier said than done with two tweens in the house, but Bilbo was pleasantly surprised to see the pair had cleaned up the burnt kitchen as best they could and had a hot pot of tea waiting for him in his study. Under the insistent urging of his nephew and daughter Bilbo spent a quiet morning reading and drinking tea but by lunchtime he was getting a bit edgy with the pairs attentive behaviour. 

“What did you do?” He asked Frodo when the lad brought him a plate which held a slice of warmed pie and salad; he took the plate awkwardly with his bandaged hands. 

“Nothing Uncle Bilbo” The lad offered innocently as he provided cutlery and a glass of iced tea

“What did Donna do?” Frodo just smiled absently and left, Bilbo knew his young charge didn’t like to lie so he’d simply avoid the question. Clearly his daughter had been up to something, imaged of forged handwriting came to mind. 

Bilbo ate his lunch and pondered, he could hear the two tweens muttering and squabbling in the other room. Bilbo was unsure as to how much Donna knew, or thought she knew, about Thorin and their relationship. Clearly enough to have invited the Dwarf to the Shire by forging Bilbo’s hand, but not enough to openly approach Bilbo about her questions. The Hobbit had always known Donna was curious about her other father, that eventually she’d find a way to discover the truth but the once burglar though he’d have a few more years at least, or a bit of warning. 

Thorin was in the Shire, this gave Bilbo pause. According to Estella he had a large, handsome Dwarf to thank for his life and even after all these years those words instantly brought Thorin to mind. Yet the Dwarf had left around the same time Donna and Frodo had arrived, had he seen her? Had he guessed the truth? Would he come back? Did Bilbo want him to? 

The Hobbit was full of questions he didn’t have answers to but he could at least start with his daughter. 

“Donna…” he called and the whispering stopped, he heard her hesitate before approaching the study. The lass wore a too tight smile when she popped her head into the room. 

“Yes Da?” Bilbo nodded to the seat across from him and levelled her with his best ‘don’t make me ask twice’ look. With a sigh the girl’s face crumpled and she fell into the seat. 

“Something you want to tell me Donna?” 

“If I said no would that be the end of it?” Donna asked hopefully but Bilbo’s look crushed that desperate optimism. “I only visited the Green Dargon, I didn’t drink this time!” Bilbo’s brows pitched in confusion but he let he daughter continue to dig her own smial so to speak.

“I went looking for the Dwarf who saved you, you know how much other Hobbits like to gossip and he went to the Green Dragon… Really should have expected it, I just wanted to talk with him. He did save your life and he was a bit grumpy and broody, just like Uncle Bofur always said but he was also very sweet and he walked me home and I know, I just know his my Ada but you wouldn’t ever speak of him Da and I just needed to know. That’s why I sent Dahlia with the invitation, I didn’t mean to upset you and I’m sorry! It’s all my fault Da!” Then the tears started, one big fat glob of water and then another until suddenly the young girl was overcome. Bilbo opened his arms where he sat in his favourite chair and before he knew it he had his arms full of sobbing Dwobbit. Bilbo stroked Donna’s hair as she cried into his chest, sometimes he forgot how young his daughter was despite her age. 

Frodo appeared through the study with a handkerchief and after handing it to Bilbo took a seat on the floor so that he could rest his head on Bilbo’s knee. 

“Oh my love, it’s not your fault. This was always going to happen. I should have told you more about your Adad years ago but I wanted to keep you all to myself.” Donna sniffled and snuggled closer but said nothing. “You’re absolutely right by clever bird, Thorin Oakenshield is indeed your Adad but he has no idea because I never told him. I’ve told you both about the journey to Erebor but I’ve missed certain parts of the story, all the parts regarding Thorin Oakenshield and myself. 

At the beginning of the quest Thorin and I did not get alone, he thought me useless and I thought him arrogant. Neither of us were wrong about the other but in time we saw that there was more than first impressions would show. Thorin may have been arrogant but he was noble and kind, he took his responsibilities seriously and held his family above everything. He carried great sorrow but in the rare moments he’d smile or laugh he’d lift the spirits of those around him in a way I cannot explain. I will admit that in the beginning of the journey I was fairly naïve, I didn’t know what to expect but I learnt and I tried hard to prove my worth. In time Thorin and I reached and understanding which developed into friendship and eventually love. 

Once Erebor was reclaimed and Smaug defeated Thorin and I wed, it was beautiful and everything I could have hoped for. It was something out of one of those Faye stories I would tell you when you were faunts.” Bilbo heard Donna’s dreamy sigh and felt his heart sink. “however out happiness was not to last. Thorin and his forefathers were plagued with a kind of sickness of the mind. Slowly the man I loved was replaced with another Dwarf, a Dwarf who was not so gentle or kind. I decided it would be for the best if I left Erebor and returned to the Shire, other Dwarrowdam had shown interest in Thorin and I thought they could provide him the Children I believed I was denied.” Bilbo’s voice hitched as he continued, “We fought the night I left, Thorin was upset I was leaving and neither of us realised I was entering my seeding. When I realised the seed had taken I had Gandalf and Uncle Bofur help spirit me away and back to the Shire. That was the last time I saw your Adad until yesterday…” 

Bilbo stroked his daughters back with one hand and his nephew’s hair with the other, no one mentioned the tears the three of them shared that night as the truth hung heavily in the air. Bilbo did not have to explain the depth of what Thorin had done, Hobbits may not have Ones and Dwarves do but the wedded for life and to leave a spouse was only done in the most extreme of cases. Even those as young as Frodo and Donna knew as much and could guess what Bilbo had gone through, why he’d never spoken about it before and the meaning behind the sad far away looks when Thorin’s letters arrived each year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so perhaps Nice wasn't the right word......... <3


	6. In the open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin... Talk...

It was three days later when the hesitant knock sounded at the door, Bilbo had been expecting it since the first altercation especially after Donna admitted to re-inviting the Dwarf but that did not make matters any easier. Donna and Frodo were setting the table for tea, trying to appear as though they weren’t eavesdropping as Bilbo slowly opened the recently repaired door. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo said by way on greeting, a tentative smile on his lips. Now that he was prepared it was much easier for Bilbo to keep his fear under control, even as his body tensed unconsciously. The Hobbit didn’t know what to expect from Thorin, he never did if truth be told. 

“Bilbo…” His name on Thorin’s lips almost sounded like a caress and Bilbo tried not to shiver as he looked up at the familiar Dwarrow. The years had been kind to Thorin; his hair was still gloriously thick though more grey speckled it now as it curled in intricate yet unfamiliar braids behind his head. Thorin’s beard had grown out over the years in Erebor, enough that he would often braid it too but now it was cropped short as it had been when they’d first met. Thorin had once mentioned that he’d worn it short as a sign of respect and mourning after the fall of Erebor but no longer felt the need once the mountain was reclaimed. Letters from long ago came back to Bilbo’s mind and he pondered whether their separation may have been the cause of Thorin’s loss in hair. Or perhaps Dis and her sense of sisterly retribution. 

Blue, familiar eyes were as sharp and clear as Bilbo had ever seen them, nothing like those clouded orbs which still haunted his nightmares when the nights grew cold and he was reminded of life in the mountain. Thorin’s face was gracefully lined, he looked older but Bilbo supposed he must after thirty years, though he still looked tired. The Dwarven King still stood tall, still had the bearing and the body of a warrior but the air around him seemed to hang heavy. 

Thorin looked at Bilbo in turn, his face seeming to hold equal parts hope and sadness “I hope I am not late, I was invited… by your daughter. I believe it was her invitation that brought me the other day.” 

“It would appear so, as it would also appear that I owe you my life.” When Thorin looked ready to protest Bilbo simply held up his hand to stop him, “Let us table that discussion for a later time, we have more important things to discuss. Please come in, everything will be ready shortly” Bilbo forced a smile, the same one he used on Lobelia and stepped aside to take Thorin’s coat. Thorin stepped in hesitantly and hung his own coat despite Bilbo’s waiting arms. The Dwarf looked around the changed Hobbit hole as Bilbo shut the door and went about fixing tea, the silence hung heavily between them but it meant little when one had two young Hobbits in the house. 

Now that their guest was welcomed inside Donna took over attending to him and fussed around the Dwarrow, Bilbo chuckled as he had never seen his daughter quite so flustered. Thorin sat where Donna directed him, drank the tea she gave him and absently ate the scone she put on his plate. All without saying a word as she chattered away nervously and all without taking his eyes off her, Bilbo felt both a spreading of paternal warmth and a sinking of dread warring in his stomach. 

Donna effectively filled the silence while Frodo hovered around Bilbo effectively ensuring he was okay, Bilbo felt lucky to have two such precious children in his life. 

Once he could procrastinate no longer Bilbo took his own seat at the table, across from Thorin with Donna and Frodo to either side of him and took a deep breath. 

I’m glad to see you are well Thorin, how does Erebor fare?” Bilbo tried not to let his words sound awkward or forced but he knew he failed by the flare of sadness and regret in Thorin’s eyes. 

“Erebor fares well, she prospers as she always does, though she lacks some of her sparkle without her resident Hobbit.” Bilbo felt a muscle in his temple twitch at the comment; Donna grabbed his hand under the table. 

“I’m surprised Fili and Kili let you come unaccompanied” Bilbo mentioned conversationally as he tried to change the subject, Frodo and Donna grinned at the idea. 

“I am not unaccompanied and I did give my nephews a choice,” Thorin leaned in conspiratorially and whispered “I snuck out of the mountain so they couldn’t follow me…” 

And like that the tension was broken, the gathered Hobbits laughed and Bilbo felt his heart lighten as that smile the Hobbit had always loved spread across Thorin’s face. For a moment the history and the pain were banished and Bilbo felt free in a way he hadn’t in years. 

“I can imagine their faces once they found out, I suppose I should expect more Dwarves in the coming days then? Shall I prepare some ransom demands?” Bilbo quipped back but Thorin shook his head. 

“For all I am sure my nephews would give in to any demands you made I don’t think they’d want me back all that much.” Like that the laughter was gone against and Bilbo watched Thorin’s expression as he mentally kicked himself. “Sorry I shouldn’t have said that…” Bilbo shook his head

“It’s alright, I take it things are still tense between you and your family.” Thorin nodded and sadness entered his eyes. 

“Aye but I cannot blame them,” Silence fell between them for a moment as Thorin looked at the wide eyes Hobbitlings watching him from beside Bilbo. “It seems there have been great changes to your own family over the years…” 

“Yes…” Bilbo cleared his throat, “I supposed introductions are in order then. Children, this is Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror and King of Erebor.” Donna froze at that, even Frodo’s eyes widened at the title. “I may have neglected that part in my stories. Thorin these are my children.” Thorin’s posture was tense and hesitant as he looked between the younglings; Bilbo put his hand on the Frodo’s shoulder affectionately. 

“This is Frodo, my cousin and nephew by blood and son by adoption.” The Dwarf’s posture relaxed considerably at the word adoption and Bilbo moved to Donna. “This is my seed daughter Belladonna” As the girl’s face wrinkled in disgust Bilbo corrected himself with a chuckle “She prefers Donna.” 

“A pleasure to meet you” the pair chimed in unison, something they’d practiced for years after learning about Fili & Kili’s introduction. 

“The pleasure is mine, though we have met before” Thorin nodded in greeting to the pair.

Bilbo raised a brow and watched as his children wished to be anywhere but at the table, suddenly they were clearing the barely touched tea and snacks under the scrutinising gaze of their elders. 

“Your daughter tells me that you have not re-married, is that true?” Bilbo ignored the hopeful tone. 

“It is, with two young faunts around there was never time to court. Besides no Hobbit in their right mind would marry Mad-Baggins” Bilbo said with a chuckle but Thorin didn’t laugh. 

“They shouldn’t call you such things…” Bilbo shrugged of Thorin’s anger on his behalf; he’d long given up the idea of being a respectable Hobbit. 

“Neighbours gossip, it’s what they do. Erebor is no different, but no one would let the King hear such words. In the Shire I’m mad Baggins, in Erebor I was the Hobbit who’d be-spelled a King. You get used to things such as these.” Bilbo ignored the darkening of displeasure in Thorin’s eyes though his body tensed expectantly. “Donna was very excited to meet you; you were always her favourite in my stories of my adventures. Frodo preferred anything with Magic and confounded Wizards.” 

“They seem like good Hobbitlings,” Bilbo donned with a fond smile as he watched the pair fight good naturedly over who had to wash and dry the dishes. “Donna said her other father was a Dwarrow, I’m surprised he is not here with you helping to raise her.” 

The question was loaded and Bilbo knew it, Thorin was fishing for information Bilbo wasn’t sure he was prepared to give however there was only so long he could hide the truth when she stood in the kitchen blowing bubbled into Frodo’s hair. 

“Why would he be? Donna is my daughter and it matters little who planted her seed.” Bilbo answered stubbornly, annoyed that Thorin was using Donna against him. 

“It is not the Dwarven was to neglect our responsibilities, whoever he is should be shorn for doing so.” Thorin said with sincerity. 

“Donna is not some Dwarven responsibility, she is my daughter and don’t you use her as an excuse. We both know that you are trying to find out who her father is so you might seek him out and challenge him to satisfy your Dwarven sense of pride.” Bilbo snapped but immediately regretted it. 

“I’m sorry; Donna’s Adad is a rather sore spot for me.” Thorin nodded hesitantly, “He doesn’t know about her and I never told him.” 

“Why…?” Thorin’s voice could only be described as strangled, “You know how important children are to our people…” 

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell him, he has the power to take her from me. Donna is my daughter, my only child and one I thought I would never be gifted with. I didn’t want her taken from me, raised in a community where she’s a commodity being born female. I wanted her to have as normal a childhood as I could give her and when she was ready… when I was ready I planned to tell her of her Adad and perhaps allow them to meet.”

“Does she know who he is?” Thorin asked, he did not comment on Bilbo’s attack of Dwarven society but Bilbo knew he’d struck a nerve. 

“I told her after the fire and she has met him, he doesn’t know yet though.” 

“Will you ever tell him?” 

“I just did.”


	7. Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You should have expected this... Thorin's response to Bilbo's confession and Bilbo's response to Thorin's response and Thorin's response to Bilbo's response to Thorin's response to Bilbo's confession? 
> 
> Confused? Good ^_^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Content warning – Mention of past Rape)

(Content warning – Mention of past Rape)

 

Time seemed to stand still and for what could have been one minute or ten years Bilbo held his breath. He wasn’t sure what to expect really, anger, shouting, fainting, laugher, denial? It was all possible as Thorin’s brained ticket over the information and implications. What the Hobbit didn’t expect was the tiny broken whisper oh “She’s mine?” 

Large blue eyes turned to Bilbo with unfathomable hope and the Hobbit nodded tentatively. 

Thorin was out of his chair in an instant and around the table, before his chair even had time to hit the ground he had Bilbo in his arms and was kissing him. Bilbo couldn’t help but tense as he felt Thorin’s arms around him, memories of a long ago embrace resurfacing as Bilbo brought his foot up and kicked Thorin as hard as he could in the shin. The Dwarf released him with a yelp which caused Bilbo to drop to the ground, Bilbo wiped his mouth on the back of his head and slowly got to his feet in an attack ready stance. 

“You need to leave now.” Bilbo growled, aware of startled eyes on him from both the Dwarf before him and the Tweens in the kitchen. 

“But Bilbo I…” Thorin sounded genuinely confused 

“Not another word Thorin Oakenshield” A knife was in Bilbo’s hand now, he wasn’t exactly sure when he’d picked it up but he felt safer with the cold bite of mental beneath his fingers. “I am willing to allow you time with my daughter because I know it is what she wants but do not think for one second you have the right to take such liberties with me.” Bilbo stepped forward causing Thorin to step back with his hands raised, Bilbo knew his face was contorted with his rage but didn’t care, nor did he care about the tears he could feel slipping down his cheeks. 

“Bilbo I don’t understand…” 

“No you wouldn’t would you?” Bilbo answered with a bitter laugh “I’m not sure how much you would be able to remember considering how pickled you were at the time. I have a riddle for you oh King under the mountain.” Bilbbo had Thorin backed up to the door now. “How does one make a child without one’s consent?” As Thorin’s eyes widened Bilbo reached out and opened the door letting the Dwarf fall back out onto the path. The enraged Hobbit threw Thorin’s coat at him before slamming the door in his face where he still lay sprawled on the ground. When Bilbo turned back to his smial he saw Donna and Frodo staring at him, Bilbo placed the knife of the table while muttering his excuses and retreated to the bathroom for a few moments of privacy and a soak in the tub. 

X~X~X

Thorin couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He had a daughter, but he’d done something terrible in the process. The stunned King had sat before Bilbo’s door for some time before the young lad, Frodo, had appeared at his side and helped him to his feet. Thorin didn’t remember the walk to the stabled with the lad, didn’t remember when the boy handed him the letter now tucked safely in his tunic and didn’t remember the ride to Bree. 

He vaguely remembered returning to his rooms and wishing for a rather large ale before the thought turned his stomach. Thorin racked his brain trying to remember what he must have done for Donna to be his daughter but he came up blank. Bilbo was correct; he spent so much of the last few years before Bilbo left Erebor soaked in booze to the point that he remembered very little of it. What he did remember was warped by the sickness which had taken over his mind, which he still struggled with a kept a tight grip of. It was little wonder that Bilbo had not felt he could raise their daughter in Erebor, especially if what Bilbo had hinted at regarding her conception was true. 

Thorin had known he’d sunk low in his drunken, hazed days as his family had been sure to enlighten him to what they knew of his actions once Thorin had sobered up and considered chasing after Bilbo. It has been their words which stopped the King, they doubted Bilbo would welcome him and now Thorin understood the truth of those words. 

Thorin thought on Donna’s words, that Bofur knew of her parentage and he cringed. If Bofur knew that Donna was Thorin’s daughter then it explained the change in him after Bilbo left, the disgust which simmered in his eyes whenever they were in the same room. Thorin had always put it down to his general mistreatment of Bilbo but he had never suspected that he could have done something so unforgivable as to… force him. 

Rape…

His mind supplied the word followed by images he could not place, were they truth filtering back or horrid imaginings? Thorin was unsure he’d ever truly know. Wasn’t sure he deserved to know. 

Thorin sat with his back against the door of his room in the Inn long into the night, his mind swirling with thoughts he couldn’t process. Of green eyes filled with fear and rage, or startled blue eyes filled with sadness and hope. His Husband and his daughter, both of which he’d failed and neither of which he deserved. 

Thorin felt as though he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs and didn’t know if he ever would again.


	8. Just to know you...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Thorin spend some time together

Donna sat and waited in her spot by the river, just as she had sat every day since her Adad had come for tea at Bagend, and waited for the Dwarf to arrive. It had been days now and he had yet to appear but she held hope in her heart that the Dwarven father shared her desire to connect, doubts tried to shake her resolve to wait and each day they grew stronger but the young Dwobbit refused to give in to those thoughts within her own mind. Donna knew that her Da and Adad had fought, she wasn’t entirely sure about what as she’d been in the kitchen with Frodo but she could guess it was about her. Da only every got that upset about things which concerned her or Frodo but she’d never seen him pull a knife on anyone before. 

Da hadn’t spoken about the incident since, had barely come out of his room long enough to speak more than a few words but Donna knew something had rattled him that day. She knew because the nightmares had started again, they started the night after Adad’s first visit but Donna figured that her Da probably hadn’t slept until then anyway. Donna had woken to shouting; she was out of bed immediately and met Frodo in the hall. Together they went to check on Da but knew better than to wake him, it was not uncommon for him to lash out when suffering his nightmares. It only got worse after their tea together, and the fight which followed.

Frodo had let Donna sleep in his bed that night, stroking her hair and singing to her as she cried herself to sleep. Donna regretted ever writing that letter to Erebor; she wanted to know her Adad but never considered the pain it would put her Da through. 

Donna sighed and buried her head in her knees; she stayed that way until the crunch of footsteps along the riverbank alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. The Dwobbit looked up reluctantly, expecting to see Frodo as she usually did this time of day but was surprised to see a pair of Dwarves walking towards her. One she recognised instantly as her Adad and jumped happily to her feet and raced to meet him, the other way younger but Donna disregarded him as a guard or guide of some sort. 

“You made it!” Donna explained once she was within speaking distance of the King, her father.

“I did, though I wish I’d come sooner” Thorin Oakenshield gifted her with a small but genuine smile as he approached her taking her letter out of his pocket. “I must confess I was unsure if I’d still be welcome all things considered…” he said with a shrug causing Donna to look at him quizzically. 

“Why wouldn’t you be? If it’s about the tiff you and Da had then that’s between the pair of you, I don’t like it but I can’t hold something I don’t understand against you…” Donna responded and the pair began to walk along the river. “Besides I’ve waited my entire life to get to know you, I’m not going to miss this chance. Especially since you’ll need to go back to Erebor eventually… you’re a King after all, imagine that my father a King…” Donna chattered effortlessly and Thorin smiled again for her. 

The pair walked easily, the other Dwarf their silent shadow, until Frodo arrived to escort Donna home. He gave the Dwarves and acknowledging nod as Donna ran up to hug him and tell him all she’d learned about her Adad. 

“Don’t be late tomorrow!” Donna called back with a wave as she and Frodo made for Bagend and Thorin nodded while returning the gesture. 

“It seems fortunate that she favours Uncle Bilbo more in demeanour or I think you really would have buggered up your only chance…” Thorin cast a reprimanding look at the younger Dwarf behind him who responded with a shrug. 

“I knew I should have left you at home, come on then let’s get back to the ponies.” The pair did exactly that but returned every day to meet with the young Dwobbit so that Thorin could get to know his daughter but always under the watchful eyes of their silent shadow.


	9. Festering wounds

The nightmares were worse now than they had ever been and it was to the point that Bilbo refused to sleep, he knew that Donna and Frodo knew he was having nightmares again but there was little he could do stop them. 

Where once he’d dreamt of the past, of things that had happened to him and he’s survived now it was no longer himself suffering at Dwarven hands but his children. Each night Bilbo watched, unable to interfere, as Thorin or some nameless Dwarf took away his children. 

Usually Frodo was sent on some mad and dangerous mission, his death guaranteed, and Donna was married off as little more than a Dwobbit birthing slave. If either refused they were tortured and eventually Frodo would be killed and Donna abused and Bilbo would wake in sweats and tears. Bilbo became unable to look at his children without those images flooding his mind so he refused to leave his room, most days he refused to leave even his bed as him simply stared into the hearth that he kept stoked and burning continuously until his room felt more like an oven. Bilbo however did not feel the heat, his blood felt cold as though freezing him from the inside out. 

It was an effort to move, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten though he knew Frodo was bringing him food each day. Bilbo knew it was his nephew due to the distinct lack of charcoal coating everything as Donna was a formidably terrible cook; she lacked patience and was easily distracted. 

Bilbo knew he should do something, knew he couldn’t continue like this, knew his children needed him to be better, to be stronger but he couldn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be there and to simply get over the past but that he didn’t know how. How does one get over abuse like that? Especially when faced with their Abuser again? Logically Bilbo knew Thorin hadn’t been well, knew that it was different and that he didn’t even remember most of the abuse… but the problem was that Bilbo remembered. He remembered every second, the feeling of every blow and touch, the sting of words and the breaking of his heart and he relived those days each time he closed his eyes. 

It had been different last time; Bilbo had Donna in his chest as a physical reminder to keep strong. He’d eaten to keep her strong, he’d slept despite the nightmares because she needed him to, Gandalf had made him feel safe but now he was alone and his children no longer relied on him in a way that forced Bilbo to move so he didn’t until he couldn’t. 

Thirty years since he’d left Erebor, almost double the time he’d been in the mountain but still not enough to make the memories fade or allow the wounds to heal properly. 

This was the way they found him, unresponsive and half starved. Frodo ushered the small group into the room but Bilbo did not stir or show any sign of noticing their arrival, Donna was at her daily meeting with Thorin Oakenshield but was unaware of just how bad the situation had become. 

Frodo sat on the edge of his Uncle’s bed and stroked his limp, greying curls to the sound of Dwarvish swearing. 

“How terrible, I’ve never seen him look so… so empty.” Came a voice from the group, belonging to one who appeared the youngest in the group.

“How long’s he been like this lad?” came a grave voice, thick with accent

“The nightmares started after Thorin Oakenshield arrived, but he’s been like this for about three weeks. Ever since Thorin kissed him...” There was no judgement or resentment in Frodo’s voice but the look shared around the room spoke volumes in his stead. 

“Oooh Bilbo, what a mess this is lad.” Frodo nodded absently as Uncle Bofur knelt beside the bed and tapped his forhead gently to Uncle Bilbo’s, Frodo knew everything would be okay now that the Dwarves had arrived. Some of them Frodo had not met before but could recognise easily enough from the stories he’d been told, if anyone could help Uncle Bilbo through this it would be his Dwarven family and Frodo was glad to have all them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUUUUUN! Can you guess the Dwarves? I gave away one and I think I’ve hinted the others pretty well! If you guess them correctly I will name you in the next chapter update aaaaand you can request a Chapter theme/POV/scene or whatever you want!!!!   
> Thorin had 1 mystery Dwarf with him, Bofur has 4… and they’re all from the original company… I’m making it too easy now! <3


	10. Egg shells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I attempt some Khuzdul in this and I’m sure I’ll butcher it so in advance I’m sorry and I blame google… translations will be pretty self-explanatory in context but I will list at the end of the chapter…

With Bilbo unable to do so Frodo took on the responsibility of host and head of the family, it was simple enough with the Dwarves as they were familiar with Bagend and his Uncle. Bofur and Bifur bunked together in their usual room, though the later muttered in Khuzdul late into the night. Frodo knew better than to ask for a translation. Oin, the company healer, refused Frodo’s offers of a room and instead made himself a pallet in the corner of Bilbo’s room. Frodo ensured the healer had enough warm blankets but with the fire still burning constantly he doubted the elderly Dwarrow would need them. The Dwarf, hard of hearing though he may be, had a good heart and was dedicated to watching over his patient, for which Frodo was eternally grateful. The burly Dwalin was happy to camp himself out in Bilbo’s study but Frodo eventually managed to make him comfortable in a guest room. The last of their visitors was a little more difficult; he was the youngest of the group and rather abruptly invited himself to bunk with Frodo, despite there being empty rooms available. 

“I’m not used to sleeping alone” was all the young Dwarf would say when pressed but the young Hobbit gave in with a sigh and a nod; he expected little else from the Prince his Uncle had told him all about. Though Frodo would admit he had expected the behaviour from the absent Kili, more than the Crown Prince before him. 

The real challenge was keeping everything under wraps when Donna arrived home, Frodo was determined to keep the severity of her father’s condition a secret until there was a change. What was the point in upsetting her, allowing her to further blame herself, when no good would come of it? If regret or self-blame cured illnesses and injuries then his own parents would still be with him.

The young Dwobbit knew something was different when Frodo didn’t pick her up from her walk with Thorin and his companion but was easily distracted by Bofur and the other Dwarves enough that she didn’t ask after her father until Frodo was serving dinner. The Dwarves looked around the table and then at Frodo before returning their gaze to the wide eyed tween before them and back at their plates. 

“Uncle Bilbo’s still feeling a bit under the weather; Master Oin is stayin with him until he’d back on his feet. He’ll be up and about in no time.” Frodo said with forced cheer as he took two plates in to Uncle Bilbo’s room. 

When he returned to the dining room the atmosphere was tense and a shouting match had broken out between Bofur and Dwalin. Frodo sighed, he remembered his Uncle’s warning about leaving Dwarves unattended but thought he’d be safe since he wasn’t leaving the smial. Clearly he was wrong. 

Frodo stomped into the room loudly and gained the attention of the assembled Dwarves by slamming a hand on the table, the all stopped to look at the young Hobbit. 

“Uncle Bilbo is sleeping” Silence fell around the table but it still appeared the Dwarves had more to say, Frodo sighed. “Donna, help me with the dishes.”

The wide eyed tween jumped to her feet and followed her adopted brother, still not sure what she’d done to cause such a ruckus but more than happy to escape with Frodo. 

X~X~X

 

Once the Hobbits had left the room the discussion resumed in earnest; though this time in hushed tones for fear of disturbing the unwell Hobbit.

“You knew she was Thorin’s daughter and you said nothing?” growled Dwalin, his face and uncomfortable shade of red.

“What was I supposed to do? It was not my secret to tell and Thorin lost his right to the child.” Bofur spat back, but Dwalin only swore heavily in Khuzdul. 

“You take your rights as brother too far, this is the child of our King you’ve been hiding!” Fili nodded in agreement of Dwalin’s words, one eye on his young cousin. 

“I do not take my rights far enough, if not for Bilbo’s request against it I would have taken Thorin’s head.” Bofur gritted out, his own cousin’s hand steadying on his shoulder. He hadn’t even told his kin the truth of Donna’s lineage but Bifur was more astute that many realised. 

“That’s treason,” Fili gasped, eyes wide as Dwalin glared. 

“It may be but no Dwarven council would convict me, not after what he did.” Bofur was near shaking at this point. 

“Egin comys” Bifur spat from behind his cousin and the air went still until Bofur nodded tensely. 

“The night he left Erebor…” 

“Uncle Bilbo is Trullit?” Fili’s voice sounded breathless and weak as he looked toward the room where the Hobbit lay still, things finally making sense to the young Dwarf. “Should we tell Oin?” 

“Nah lad, my guess is he figured it out right quick. Probably why he refused to leave the Hobbit” Dwalin said roughly, his voice hitched in an unfamiliar way.

“The younglings haven’t a clue and that’s the way Bilbo wants it, I don’t know how much he’s told them since Thorin arrived but I doubt he’d ever what Belladonna to know she was conceived by force.” Bofur’s voice was firm as he looked towards the kitchen; voice still pitched low so as not to be overheard.

“What about Thorin?” Fili seemed young in these moments, he knew that his Uncle had wronged Bilbo but never imagined it was this bad. 

“I don’t think he remembers in all honesty,” Bofur sighed “he spent so much time drinking that I think he’s lost a lot of that time. I don’t know if Bilbo’s told him but if what Frodo said is true about Thorin kissing him it would have brought back some painful memories for the lad. He never really got a chance to work through this, not with a pair of faunts about. Gandalf was worried about something the Hobbits call fading but didn’t elaborate, simply spirited Bilbo away fast as he could. Donna wants to know Thorin, has been guessing at his identity for years but she’s too young to truly understand what had happened.”

The Dwarves were solemn and silent for a moment before as one Dwalin and Fili rose. 

“I must speak with my Uncle” Fili said, voice choked but Bofur nodded as though he were expecting it. 

“Aye, you lot go to your kin and we’ll watch over Bilbo and the younglings for now.” With a curt nod the pair strode for the door, Bofur leant on the table as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. Bifur marched to the kitchen to distract the children from the harsh atmosphere around them and if one listened closely they could hear deep Dwarven swearing from deeper within the smial as a Hobbit slipped further out of reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know, I promised this would be happier… I just don’t know what to do with this pair anymore… really I don’t! 
> 
> Khuzdul used   
> egin = compulsion or duress  
> comys = the naughty version of have sex, fornicate (this is the rude version of the word)  
> trullit = corrupted, debauched


	11. Confrontation

Thorin’s dreamt of his husband every night since the Hobbit left, some dreams were abstract and strange while others were more ordinary. Thorin’s favourites were the ones of their wedding, memories more than dreams but taking him back to a place of love and hope, the King didn’t see those dreams often. Usually his dreams were of Bilbo, bruised and crying as he left Erebor and Thorin knew he could do nothing to stop his Hobbit. Since finding out about their daughter those dreams had begun to include Donna, the pair turning their backs on Thorin and walking away. 

Those were not the worst of his dreams though, the ones that really cut Thorin were the dreams he could not differentiate from reality. The dreams were Bilbo stood before him, bloodied and bruised begging for compassion and kindness. The dreams where Thorin looked into his lover’s eyes as he lowered his hand to strike him and saw a monster reflected back at him through Bilbo’s eyes. Since meeting Belladonna, her image had replaced Bilbo’s in his dreams on two occasions and the fear that gripped the Dwarrow when he woke was overwhelming. 

This was one of those nights and Thorin found his small room at the Inn to be suffocating in its restrictive size. Thorin shook of his sheets, threw his sword around his waist and stepped into hi books. Looking briefly at his nephew curled up in his own bed Thorin grab his coat and left the room, he needed air. The night outside the Inn was dark and mostly silent, nothing like the constant hum of life within the walls of Erebor. He missed his home, his people, but there was too much he had to make up for here while he had the opportunity. Belladonna had mentioned Bilbo was laid up with some kind of flu or cold, the girl was worried about her father but kept away so as not to catch it. Thorin hoped Bilbo a swift recovery but wondered if the Hobbit would allow Donna this time with him if he were able to intervene? 

Thorin was pacing through the silence streets when he heard the familiar sounds of hooves racing towards him, Thorin prepared himself for an altercation only to relax at the site of his older nephew and shield-brother.

“I am surprised it took you so long to catch up to me, I hope you had safe travels” Thorin said welcomingly with a smile, he was stunned however when his nephew dismounted his pony and immediately struck him. Thorin stumbled back in surprise as the fist connected with his jaw but stayed on his feet and ducked the next attack. Fili was furious, his face contorted with rage in a way Thorin had never seen. Dwalin, Thorin’s brother-at-arms, slowly descended from his own mount but looked content to allow events to unfold as they would. 

“Anyone want to explain what’s happening here?” Thorin grunted as he blocked another strike from his nephew, Dwalin was the one to provide the answer as Fili focused on his attack. 

“We went to see Bilbo; the lad heard and saw a few things he wasn’t ready for…” The fight immediately left Thorin and he dropped his block allowing Fili’s fist to connect with his jaw once more though this time the elder Dwarf was more prepared. 

“I see, I can’t blame him then.” Thorin lowered his head even as Fili grabbed him by the collar of his tunic. 

“How?” The young Dwarf’s voice cracked brokenly and Thorin looked up to see tears in those expressive eyes “How could you do something like that to Uncle Bilbo? You who always spoke of honour above all things…” Fili looked ready to strike Thorin again but Dwalin’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

“I wish I knew, I don’t remember it. It is no excuse but I cannot explain what my mind does not know…” 

“Go see your brother lad, I need to talk to yer Uncle” Dwalin rumbled and stiffly Fili nodded and walked towards the Inn. 

“Bilbo told you then?” Thorin spoke once his nephew was out of earshot, looking up at the stars above them. 

“Bofur did…” Dwalin answered hesitantly as though weighing up his next words carefully. 

“Ah, I see. So Bofur knew, explains a bit…” 

“Thorin, about Bilbo…” Thorin looked at his friend with a raised brow, he’d never seen Dwalin so uncertain. Except when Ori was concerned.

“Speak plainly my friend, I know I overstepped with the Hobbit. I was overcome by the news I had a daughter, I did not consider what that may have meant for Bilbo.” 

“Bilbo isn’t well Thorin,” Dwalin suddenly had his friend and King’s sole focus, “He hasn’t been eating and is completely unresponsive, Oin is tending him but doesn’t hold much hope. Our Hobbit is dying Thorin…”

“This cannot be, Donna would have said something…” Thorin glared at his friend, praying for some kind of untruth. 

“She doesn’t know, I don’t agree with the decision but it has been kept from her until they know more. Thorin I think you may need to prepare yourself to lose him for good this time.”

“No, Oin is with him and will find a cure. Bilbo is stronger than some illness.”

“Oin’s never seen anything like it, he’s been swearing since we arrived. It is either an illness of the mind, which you well know cannot be cured by a physician alone, or it is something unique to Hobbits.” 

“The get a Hobbit healer, damn it Dwalin, I saw him not long ago and he was healthy.”

“Thorin…”

“No! Bilbo will not die, not like this. I will get the Hobbit healer myself.” Thorin left Dwalin, standing in the slowly lightening streets of Bree as he headed for the stables. 

 

X~X~X

 

Donna knew something was wrong and that Frodo was hiding it from her with the help of the Dwarves, Da never got sick. Ever. 

After the Dwain and Fili left the young Dwobbit only needed to bide her time, she settled in to read a book in Da’s chair and after an hour feigned sleep. It wasn’t long before Uncle Bifur lifted her into his arms, as he had done many times for her as she grew, and tucked her into bed. Donna waited a further twenty minutes until she was sure they’d dismissed her as asleep before she snuck into her father’s room. Oin, the Dwarven healer, whom she’d met briefly was snoring softly in a chair near the hearth so Donna crept in with as much Hobbity stealth as she could manage. When she got to the edge of the bed a strangled sound escaped her throat which effectively woke the healer but Donna didn’t care. 

Dropping to her knees Belladonna Baggins looked into her Seed Father’s vacant eyes and cried. Donna heard chaos erupt around her, felt hands pulling at her but she shook them off and would not be moved. Before her, laying expressionless and prone in her father’s bed was little more than a shell of the Hobbit she loved. Eyes empty, face pale and gaunt, his once lively curls were limp, dull and thinning. Donna knew what she was seeing and yet her mind refused to accept it, this could not be her Da. Frodo wouldn’t hide something this important from her.

“Come on Donna, there’s nothing you can do…” Donna felt Uncle Bofur lift her and take her from the room, there was a horrible shrieking sound in her ears. It wasn’t until the elder Dwarf hugged her close that she realised the sound was coming from her as broken cries and sobs escaped her.

“It’s alright Love, Oin will find a way to help your Da” Mumbled her uncle as he stroked her hair and rocked her small frame. 

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” She choked out

“What difference would it have made lovely? No need to add your tears to our until we know for sure it’s worth shedding them”

“But he… he’s fading!” she sobbed heavily as Frodo joined them. 

“I’m sorry Donna,” Donna launched herself into her adopted brother’s waiting arms, head barely reaching his chest and cried as a fear and grief she’d never known filled her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible person...


	12. A Gentle Touch

Bilbo was floating in a timeless space, everything was muted and dark where nothing seemed to reach him. It was like he was slowly drowning in a murky river, he couldn’t see or hear properly and he could barely breathe most of the time but his limbs were so heavy that he couldn’t even fight the sensation of sinking deeper and deeper. However every so often he became aware of small things around him and it felt like a darkness would clear just enough that he could breathe. Sometimes it was a feeling, warmth and connection as warm fingers gentle stroked through his hair and dances across his face, during those moments it felt like the intense pressure on his chest lifted just enough for the Hobbit to take a single sighing breath before it crashed back over him. 

Other times it was the sound of voices, always gentle and familiar in whispers that Bilbo couldn’t make out but just having them there was like warm water flowing over him and banishing some of the chill from his bones. 

Bilbo’s favourite voice though came in a deep baritone he knew but couldn’t place yet it never seemed to leave him once it added to the mix of sounds. The baritone wasn’t loud or soft but it resounded in a way the others didn’t, sometimes it would accompany the fingers in his hair and other times it would hum the most beautiful melodies. Bilbo’s body would fill with sensation in those moments and he could feel. In those moments, the Hobbit would become aware of overwhelming heat battling with piercing cold, strong steady hands lifting him and tasteless liquids being poured down his throat but Bilbo didn’t care as long as the Baritone kept singing and those warm gentle fingers continued to stroke through his hair and when they’d stop he’d give almost anything to get them back; even if it meant fighting against the deep, heavy river which kept him prisoner within his own thoughts. 

X~X~X

Bilbo was improving, Bofur wasn’t exactly happy about the circumstances under which this was happening but the truth was that the Hobbit was slowly improving. 

It had been two weeks since Thorin arrived on the doorstep of Bagend in the middle of the night with the Hobbit healer in tow, the elderly Hobbit rubbing sleep from her eyes but making her way straight to Bilbo’s chamber without a word. Thorin had entered the Smial rather hesitantly and if it weren’t for the rather fierce bruise already beginning to form on his jaw the Dwarf would have throttled him, Bifur almost did regardless when the King followed the healer to Bilbo’s room. 

Bofur glared at the Dwarf he once called friend, eyes sharply taking in every movement as he sat beside the prone Hobbit. Thorin looked older than he had when Bofur had seen him last in Erebor and a part of him looked just as broken as the Hobbit before him. Bofur had been pleased to see it, pleased to see some recognition of the damage he’d caused but stayed silent as the Hobbit healer fluttered around. 

The old woman discussed with Oin Bilbo’s treatments and explained more about the fading Bilbo was suffering, she shook her head and lamented that little could be done. That without knowing the exact cause of the fading there was little hope of reversing it, the eyes in the room fell on Thorin for an instant then melted away to the Hobbit. The healer had left, but Thorin had not. He perched himself at Bilbo’s side and reached out to stroke the Hobbit’s hair, this Bofur had protested but could do little to enforce with a teary Donna in the room on the other side of the dying father. 

After turning a blind eye that night Bofur was unable to remove Thorin from Bilbo’s side, it was like they were physically joined together but the Dwarrow within the Smial took turns keeping an eye on the pair. Thorin never left Bilbo but Bofur made sure he was never alone with the Hobbit. 

The next morning Dwalin, Fili and Kili arrived from Bree and the Dwarves set up a routine to assist Frodo and Donna in the Smial. Too keep the younglings distracted Fili and Kili were nominated as Hobbit sitters and Bifur as Prince sitter. The days passed slowly but with Thorin’s help Oin got Bilbo eating again, mostly medicines and broths but it was an improvement. The shivering of old stopped too, perhaps because of the added warmth of another body beside the Hobbit or perhaps because he was no longer starving but the fires were doused during the days after a week. Slowly Bilbo became more responsive and began to move on his own, still not stalking or aware but as though sleeping lightly. If Thorin left his bedside the Hobbit would toss and turn, if Donna or Frodo lay beside him and spoke to Bilbo the elder Hobbit, on rare occasion, would reach out for them. 

After two weeks Bilbo began to get some of his colouring back and started to mumble unintelligibly in his sleep but Oin took it all as a good sign, he confirmed with the Hobbit healer and the old crone simply cackled and muttered about bachelors and love and overly dramatic Tooks. 

On the third week after Thorin’s bedside vigil began Bilbo opened his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so Horrible?


	13. Fade from view

It was early morning when Bilbo opened his eyes, he knew because he could hear the birds singing and see the sun rising through his window. Strange as he usually drew the blinds before bed but couldn’t remember doing so. Bilbo smiled as the feeling of warmth surrounded him, familiar weight cocooning him causing the Hobbit to smile. Hair that wasn’t his tickled the Hobbit’s nose as he pulled the covers back just enough to reveal the top of his daughter’s head, Donna always snuck into bed with him when she had bad dreams and Bilbo had never had it in him to mind. Yawning he began to stroke the girl’s unruly curly locks, slowly stroking them out of his face as she snuggled closer. Bilbo could feel the warm press of another body at his back, this one on top of the covers, and assumed Frodo must have joined them in the night. Bilbo slowly shifted from his side to his back, Donna easily following him as she always did, and prepared to pull his nephew close but lounging beside Bilbo was not his nephew but a Dwarf. 

Bilbo felt his whole body tense with apprehension as he slid out of Donna’s grasp, his body ached and protested along with his whining daughter but eventually he freed himself from both child and sheets. Bilbo snuck around the bed and pulled Donna out, she followed easily as she began to wake silently. Bilbo was thankful for the many times he’d directed the girl to her own bed after she fell asleep in his study that her body had learnt to follow him without waking her. Bilbo took her to Frodo’s room and tucked her into bed with his slumbering nephew. 

Body crying out in protest, knees shaking and head pounding, Bilbo snuck out of the room and to his study to find Sting. As he crept silently through the Smial he saw more huddled forms, roughly the shape of Dwarves and tried not to wake them. Bilbo opened his mother’s glory box, relocated to his study for preservation purposes after two naughty boys used it to wipe off filthy boots, and rummaged silently through his mementos from his adventures until his seeking fingers found the Elvish blade. Just in time for a resounding Dwarvish shout to sound the alarm and cause the hulking forms of Dwarves to appear drom apparently every corner of his home. 

Bilbo grasped the blade, hand reaching to his desk drawer for another keepsake far too precious to sit in a box and ran back to his nephew’s room where Frodo and Donna were rubbing their eyes and looking around in confusion. Bilbo opened the door, slammed it shut and threw his weight against it causing his children to jump in fright. Panting heavily Bilbo removed the ring, appearing before the confused pair with his small sword held tightly. 

“Shhh, I’ll explain later” he called to them, their eyes opening wide at the sight of him as Bilbo cursed the lack of locks within the Smial. 

A banging sounded on the door and the door knob began to turn but Bilbo used his body weight and the scabbard of his sword to jam the door shut, it wouldn’t hold for long against Dwarves but perhaps long enough. 

“Da’ what are you doing?” Donna hissed, “You should be in bed, you’re still not well.”

“Hush…” Bilbo whispered as the banging returned

“Donna, Frodo! Are ye’ alright in there?” Called a gravelly voice that Bilbo thought he recognised. 

“Aye Mister Dwalin…” Frodo called, voice calm as he looked at his Uncle barricading the door. “Uncle Bilbo is here with us but seems a bit confused.”

Bilbo stared at his nephew, the name sinking in. Dwalin… It couldn’t be…

Bilbo rose to his feet, unjammed the door and thrust it open to see a hulking figure of a Dwarf he could never forget. 

“Dwalin!” Bilbo called, joy in his voice and a smile on his face even as his body swayed unsteadily, “What in the name of the Green Lady are you doing here old friend? You scared the life out of me, who else is here?” 

Dwalin gave Bilbo an odd look as the Hobbit embraced him but returned it with a sigh of relief, he much preferred this Bilbo to the once lying unresponsive and half dead in his bed. 

“The lads, Bifur, Bofur and Oin are all here. As is Thorin.” 

Dwalin said the last name with a hesitant hitch in his throat but Bilbo just released him and repeated the name quizzically. 

“Thorin?” 

“Aye laddy, and he’s not left yer side since he found out you were not well” 

“What do you mean Dwalin, I’m perfectly fine. Fit as a fiddle, if a bit peckish.” Peckish was an understatement but Bilbo didn’t see a need to go into how his stomach felt as though it were gnawing a hole through itself. Not when clearly there were Dwarvish mouths to feed. 

“Bilbo!” Called another voice and before he knew it Bilbo was lifted off his shaky feet and being twirled around like a Hobbit a third his age. 

“Bifur put me down!” He laughed happily but his Dwarven brother did no such thing, simply hugged him close and muttered something into his hair before passing the smaller creature to his cousin for more enthusiastic embraces. “Oh you overly dramatic lot, sneaking up on me in the middle of the night; I have nothing in the pantry, you know you’re supposed to send a letter…” Bilbo laughed but the room went quiet. 

“Da they’ve been here for weeks…” Donna said softly behind him as Bilbo was finally set on his feet again, the rest of the Dwarrow joining their little hallway gathering. 

“Uncle Bilbo! Glad to see you up and about!” Smiled Fili as his brother frowned

“But you really should be resting in bed” 

“I don’t know what you silly boys are on about! Quick give me a hug, I haven’t seen you both in an age!” With no further prompting needed the boys rushed the hobbit and he was caught happily in their embrace even as Oin provided an explanation for their words. 

“Bilbo, you’ve been asleep for weeks. We thought for a time we’d lost you lad, your Shire healer said you were fading like yer Mam.” Bilbo shook his head as the lads released him and Oin rested a hand on his forhead to check his temperature. 

“He’s right Uncle Bilbo, it’s already Afterlithe” 

“That’s impossible; I think I’d know if I’d been asleep so long… that’s practically Hibernation. You lot stop playing tricks, I’m an old Hobbit and this isn’t funny.”

The Dwarves looked amongst themselves uncertainly.

“This is no trick Bilbo…” The Hobbit paused at this voice, his entire body going rigid and yet a shiver of recognition ran down his spine. Offhand thoughts of a soothing baritone and firm yet gentle fingers running through his hair trickled back to Bilbo’s mind as slowly turned to face the Dwarf who had joined the group, unnoticed by the Hobbit. 

“…Thorin,”he breathed, voice catching on the familiar yet foreign syllables. “I presume?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope still Horrible... But mass updates and no cliffhangers... so love me????


	14. Out of sight, out of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes I did steal the idea, good work to those of you who picked it up… why? Because I am a bad person and am sick of torturing this pair the same old way so New torture! YAY

Bilbo was sick of being in bed, sick of people telling him he was sick. If this was some Clod Head’s idea of a joke it was certainly in very poor taste. 

At least he was until Donna began to cry. 

Belladonna, he brave and stubborn headed little girl hated to cry. Hated to show what she considered to be weakness in the form of tears. 

Once the crying started Bilbo had her in his arms and knew this was no joke, he allowed Oin to direct him to bed and Donna to curl up sobbing at his side. When Frodo brought him in Tea and soup he ignored the unknown medicines Oin dosed both with and drank them without complaint before pulling the strong lad into his other side.

Bilbo went through the last thing he remembered, sending Frodo off to the river with Donna’s boots. After that things became a bit hazy. Oin quizzed him about his memory before that, about seemingly random events until explaining that part of Bilbo’s memory seemed to be missing. 

The entire part which revolved around the Dwarf named Thorin. 

Bilbo didn’t understand how that was possible but those he trusted maintained that the Dwarf, though unknown to him, had once been very important to him and that he was in fact Donna’s planter father, which the Dwarf had only recently discovered himself. Bilbo thought it impossible but when the Hobbit tried to remember details about Donna’s other parent he simply ended up with a vague image of a dark haired Dwarf and a splitting headache. 

The Hobbit took it all in stride and allowed his children and Dwarves to coddle him to their hearts content with the exception of Thorin. Bilbo hadn’t seen the Dwarf since their initial meeting in the hallway though somehow he knew the Dwarf was often around. Thorin fascinated Bilbo, and not simply because he’d apparently forgotten him during his illness. The Dwarf he knew nothing about and yet felt as though he understood so deeply was rarely from Bilbo’s thoughts. 

Once he was released from his bed, for really there was little reason to keep him confined there, Bilbo found himself seeking the darkly brooding Dwarf out. There was a sadness in him that Bilbo didn’t understand but felt responsible for, a part of him ached to sooth it away with sweet words and gentle kisses though he refrained from doing either. Instead Bilbo watched silently at the routines developed while he’d been unwell. 

Frodo and Bofur would make the meals, Fili and Kili would clean up from them. Bifur and Dwalin would see to firewood and surprisingly tended to Bilbo’s garden. Oin and Bofur would potter around the Smial and go down to the market if needed while the brothers had started teaching Frodo and Donna some basic hand to hand combat. Thorin would often sit out and watch or train with them, he was quiet but seemed to be aware of everything. Bilbo spent the first few days pottering around his study, catching up on Shire Business he’d missed but kept finding himself distracted by the youths and their almost surly supervisor. Bilbo’s favourite moments were when Thorin interacted with Donna, he’d first spotted them from his kitchen window while making a cuppa. Donna had just lost her match against Kili and flounced down beside Thorin on the small wooden bench to watch the end of Frodo’s spar with Fili. Kili was cheering on his brother and Donna hers but Bilbo kept his eyes on Thorin. The moment Donna approached the Dwarf tensed visibly but as she relaxed beside him he relaxed, he was still aware of everything around him but his tense edgings relaxed around their daughter. 

When Fili pushed Frodo back slightly to block a strike and the Hobbit lad lost his footing he should have landed directly on top of Donna but Thorin’s hand came from nowhere and he righted Bilbo’s nephew back on his feet. Donna was none the wiser that she’d been in danger of becoming Hobbit jelly as she chattered on excitedly to Thorin. Bilbo had smiled then and made an effort to watch the pair interact, Thorin’s consideration and awareness of Donna always present if one was looking for it. Though because Bilbo was looking for it he began to notice small things and wonder, the large dwarf never went anywhere alone. At first Bilbo thought it may have been for protection, he is a King after all… apparently, but that didn’t make sense when he proved to be a more than adequate fighter and there was little danger present in the Shire. 

Even within the Smial, if Bilbo tried to get Thorin alone to discuss the memories he’d lost it was impossible. The Dwarf always seemed to be chaperoned, which only made Bilbo more committed to discover the truth. 

Bilbo read and re-read his stories and diaries of his travels, looked for every piece of evidence of Thorin’s existence in his life which was when he found the letters. 

Thirty years’ worth of apologies and regrets written in an angular hand Bilbo almost recognised, all filled with love and sorrow and all apparently unanswered. Bilbo read each letter a few times, wondering at the wrongs he couldn’t remember and apparently felt unable to forgive. 

Bilbo needed to know.


	15. Desperate times call for desperate measures…

Dwarves were incredibly stubborn creatures, this Bilbo remembered above all, and apparently they did not want Bilbo and Thorin alone together. 

Bilbo started by asking Thorin to join him in the kitchen as he made dinner one night, The Dwarf followed but with a chattering Kili shaped shadow. Next he sat beside the Dwarf during the lads’ training of Bilbo’s children, this ended with a Fili shaped lump between them. When Bilbo tried to drag the Dwarf away for a quiet word on his study Oin came grumbling in muttering to himself, Bofur accompanied them to the markets and Bifur started following Bilbo with a sullen look on his face. 

Thorin said nothing on any of these occasions about the intrusions; he looked neither pleased nor put out as though this was simply the way of things. Bilbo however had plenty to say about it and decided to take more drastic measures, he decided to recruit the tweens. 

As Bilbo was cooking breakfast one lovely Trewsday morning he tried not to flinch as an all too familiar shrieking reached his sensitive ears, he knew he’d asked for this but that didn’t mean he would enjoy the experience. 

“Da! Da!!!” Donna shrieked in a familiarly demanding tone, and with a sigh the Hobbit set the porridge for breakfast to simmer and stomped down the hall to his screeching daughter as Dwarven heads popped out of the guest rooms.

“Yes Donna?” Bilbo asked once he reached his daughter’s room, though it would be hard to tell in the state it was in. 

“Da! Make him give it back!” Donna yelled, eyes shooting daggers at Frodo where he stood, leaning smugly against the hallway wall. 

“I didn’t take it,” He spoke but his voice was not at all conviencing, this was an argument Bilbo remembered well as Donna shieked and lunged for the older lad. 

“What have you lost sweetheart?” Bilbo soothed as he held the back of his daughter’s shirt collar, stopping her from throttling her brother. Something he’d failed to do last time. 

“Da, he’s taken my diary again, the wyrm! Give it back you gutless snake!” Donna tried to lunge for Frodo again even as Bilbo reprimanded her

“Donna, what on earth… we don’t use that kind of language in this smial.” Bilbo stomped a foot firmly as Frodo poked his tongue out at his sister. 

“Fili and Kili do…” Bilbo turned to glare at the lads who immediately hid behind the bulk of Dwalin. That however was all Donna needed, that moment of distraction, to get out of her father’s grasp and throw herself bodily at the other Hobbit in the hallway. 

Frodo went down with a yelp at Donna started throwing punches. 

“Give it back! I swear I will kill you if you’ve done something with it!” She shrieked

“Oh get off, your stupid diary is boring anyway!” Frodo yelled back, his arms up and shielding him from Donna’s blows as she gasped in indignation but before more could be done the two were pulled off each other. Bifur had his arm around Donna’s waist and was holding the struggling tween sideways against side like she was little more than a particularly large floppy pillow. Bofur was helping Frodo to his feet, the pair the most used to such scenes from watching the tweens as faunts. Just in time for a particularly horrible burnt smell to reach them from the kitchen, Bilbo swore in elvish under his breath and race toward the kitchen. He was beaten there by none other than Thorin who had the pot off the stove and was looking apologetically at Bilbo. 

Feeling familiar paternal frustration fill his system Bilbo slammed his foot down and took a deep breath. 

“I’ve had enough, it is too early for these finds of shananigons and I thought the pair of you far too old for such foolishness. As for you two” Bilbo glared at his dwarvish nephews, despite the fact that he couldn’t remember his apparent courtship and subsequent marriage to their uncle. “How dare you come into my smial and use bad language around your younger cousins. You should be ashamed.” To their credit they did indeed look ashamed and more than a little terrified. 

“Now Bilbo…” started Dwalin 

“Don’t you ‘now Bilbo’ me, I am not Ori. I need some time to myself. Everybody out!” Bilbo stomped his foot again at pointed at the door, for a second nobody moved until the Hobbit narrowed his eyes and the occupants of the hallway rushed out of the smial; all forgetting the one Dwarf missing and still standing in the kitchen mourning their breakfast. 

“Finally…” Bilbo muttered as he stomped back to the kitchen after waiting for the door to slam, piercing blue eyes looked up at Bilbo with a stunned yet cautious expression. “Come along Mister Oakenshield, it’s well past time we talked.”

Bilbo led the way to his study and took a seat in his customary chair and waited as the Dwarf took the other and waited. 

“As we have established my memory has been a bit stunted since my illness, I think it’s about time we filled it some of the gaps and I believe you are the only person who can do so. When you’re ready Master Oakenshield, please do start from the beginning.”

X~X~X~X~X

Even a Dwarf as dense as Thorin could recognise that Bilbo was desperate, that somehow he’d orchestrate this entire situation to get Thorin away from the other Dwarrow and that, whether he deserved it or not, he was being given a chance. 

Now the Dwarf needed to decide how to use this chance, to tell Bilbo the truth of their relationship and what Thorin had done? Have the Hobbit hate him and fear him once more? Risk him taking their daughter and running as far away as he could manage? Or bend the truth? Give Bilbo a gentler version of events and continue to indulge himself in a Bilbo who didn’t remember to hate Thorin…

The decision wasn’t even worth debating; Thorin knew his mind well enough to know the answer. 

“I’m not sure how much you know but I’ll warn you now, it’s not a pleasant story.” Thorin took a deep breath when Bilbo nodded, a familiar look of determination on his face. “Well then, where to begin? A bit of history may help, as you are aware I am the current King of Erebor, my grandfather was King before me when it was taken by Smaug and our family has held Erebor since the time of Durin the Deathless. However, the line of Durin have one failing above all others. Our line is susceptible to illness of the mind, I regret that I am no exception to this curse of my bloodline and believe that many hurts could have been avoided if I had been.

After Smaug took Erebor my people and I wandered to find a new home, we lost much on the way and received little compassion or assistance from those we came across. We were a race brought low and that made us callous and jaded, I perhaps more than most. I felt I had let down my people, I was too young to have really stood a chance against a dragon and yet my pride demanded I be something more than I could be. I set my mind on reclaiming Erebor, it was a fools mission but I think part of me knew I would not find rest unless I tried. I met Gandalf and he suggested we find ourselves a burglar, that is where you came in. I didn’t know what to expect of a Hobbit and you were certainly not it. How could something so soft and kind face off against a dragon? Our first meeting was less than Ideal…”

Images flashed around Bilbo, flashes of memories and shadows of Dwarves past. He watched through his mind’s eye the end of the unexpected dinner party that Gandalf had brought to his door so many years ago, heard clearly a heavy knock at the door and a shiver ran up his spine. 

“You called me a grocer…” Bilbo whispered, more to himself than to the Dwarf but he hummed in acknowledgement. 

“I did indeed, not one of my better moments.” Bilbo hummed in agreement and waited for Thorin to continue. “You were never what I expected, if I expected you to flee you’d fight and when I expected you to obey you argued. You always challenged me in a way I didn’t expect but over time I came to appreciate the way my position didn’t affect you and my demeanour failed to frighten you away. Over the journey I came to care for you, in a way I was unaccustomed to caring for anyone. When I found out my regard was reciprocated I was overjoyed and it felt like a part of me that was always missing have finally been returned. I had never expected to find my One, especially not in the form or a fierce and kind Hobbit and yet there you were. You gave me something more to live for and from then our… ahhumm… relationship moved rather quickly.” Thorin looked away, face flushed. 

Again images flooded Bilbo’s mind, these ones a lot less innocent. Images of a naked Dwarf sprawled out before him, languid kisses under the stars, the feeling of an abnormally warm body pressed against his own as they drifted to sleep. Bilbo felt a warm fluttering in his chest, he almost felt giddy as forgotten memories and feelings flooded him. Thorin’s face becoming less foreign to him and much more kissable, at least until it darkened. 

“Things yet wrong once we reached Erebor, I became enthralled by the mountain and it’s treasures just like my predecessors. I became blind to my own greed and almost doomed us all, you took action to save a company of stone headed Dwarves and I repaid your loyalty and love with anger. That was the first time I raised my hand against you in anger” Bilbo gasped as the feeling of hands around his throat drifted back to him. 

“It is no excuse, as there could be no excuse, but at the time I failed to recognise the illness for what it truly was. We believed it to be Gold sickness or Dragon sickness and that it would fade once I had it under control but it didn’t, it stayed in the back of my mind festering for years. When Dis arrived she helped me with it, helped me to control it, but when she went away it was harder to push back. I never told you about my weakness of the mind, I don’t truly know what I was so afraid of but I regret not warning you before we married.”

More memories flooded Bilbo, meeting Dis for the first time, lazy mornings in Bed with Thorin, worrying about his place in Erebor, their wedding and the gifts bestowed by Mahal and Yavanna, Bilbo’s first seeding and a Dwarrowdam on Thorin’s arm. Bilbo’s soring heart faltered. 

“There was someone else… A Dwarrowdam…” Bilbo muttered, mostly to himself but again Thorin nodded. 

“My advisors were pushing me to find a suitable Dam and have more heirs, being a new King I could see the risks to our line should something happen to Fili or Kili. That and I wanted children with you but thought it impossible, clearly I was wrong. It is around here that my memories become hazy, the darkness in my mind began to overwhelm me and I regret that I did some inexcusable things. I do not know the full extent of my actions but I do know that they were unforgivable.” 

Horrible images and phantom sensations rushed over Bilbo and he shuddered as the memories came flooding back. 

“And now?” he questioned 

“It was your leaving the broke the hold of the sickness over me but once the situation was explained I knew I had no right to follow you. There are still days where I feel it’s precense at the back of my mind, stray thoughts which speak to me on a dark level but never again has it had such a hold on me. However I no longer take the risk that I may lash out and hurt another, it is by my own request that I am never without a shadow to mark my actions and I have appointed my sister Regent. Should I be away from Erebor or no longer fit as King her orders have as much sway as my own and I am making arrangements for dual leadership moving forward. Fili and Kili will rule Erebor together and that is how I wish it to be for the line of Durin, I never again want to risk our line causing such avoidable pain as I and my Grandfather caused.”

“What of Donna, now that you know of her what are your plans?” Bilbo asked, an edge of steel in his voice.

“I would like the opportunity to know my daughter and I would like to give her the chance to learn her Dwarven heritage. How I do that I’m not sure yet but I swear to you that I will never try to take her from you Bilbo, I would rather take my own life than hurt her or you that way.” The sincerity in his voice pulled at Bilbo in a way he hadn’t expected. 

“This is a lot to take in… I need some time to think.” Bilbo muttered, unable to think of much else to say but Thorin nodded and rose to his feet. 

“I will give you some space; I might go and check on my foolish nephews. See that they haven’t destroyed half the Shire already…” Bilbo smiled despite himself as Thorin left. 

Information swirling around his head Bilbo turned to his desk, he had some thinking to do and some decisions to make but first we was going to have a stiff drink. Reaching into his pocket for his desk key Bilbo opened his top draw and took out a small flask, as he lifted it out he found an old and worn piece of paper behind it. Bilbo pulled the sheet out and laid it gently on the desk recognising his own handwriting easily. 

The paper was dirty and tear stained, the ink was smudged and hastily written. Bilbo didn’t remember writing this letter but as he read it the words came back to him, the feeling of a seed ready for planting fluttering in his chest as his tears began to flow. He wrote this letter the night he returned to the Shire, after he’d prepared the garden for Donna’s seed and before the planting. Seeding sit in the chest until ready for planting and come out as a Hobbit cries tears of joy, or at least that was how it was usually done. Bilbo felt his tears rekindle as he looked down at the letter he’d never been able to send. 

 

X~X~X~X

 

Dear Thorin, 

I am so afraid, I have returned to the Shire but it no longer feels like my home. It is simply a place where I live without you, where I will raise our daughter without you and where one day I will die without you. A daughter, can you imagine it Thorin? We’re finally going to be parents like we always hoped, you will be a wonderful Adad to her. I’m not sure if I’m ready to be a parent Thorin, I don’t know if I can do this without you. I still love you, with every fibre of my being I love you, I know that the Dwarf who hurt me is not who you really are and that one day the true you will come back. I just hope that I will still be here when he does. That I will get to see you meet Belladonna, Belladonna Aivielis Baggins of the Line of Durin daughter of Thorin son of Thrain. I hope you don’t min me naming her after our mothers, I thought you might approve. We never truly got the chance to discuss names but I think it will fit her; we didn’t get a chance to discuss a lot of things Thorin. 

Things like death. Thorin, Hobbits don’t live as long as Dwarves which is why I may not be here when you meet her at last. I don’t know how that will affect her, being half Dwarven but I do hope that you will be here for her once I am gone. That you will help her get through it and that she won’t have to be alone, there is nothing worse in this life than being alone. It took thirteen boisterous Dwarves and a scheming Wizard to teach me that and I don’t want Donna to have that life. 

I hope that your people will accept her, more than they did me. It can be hard being the only Hobbit in a Dwarven city so keep an eye on her and don’t let her trick you into thinking she’s fine. She’ll have enough Took blood in her to get up to all kinds of mischief so be sure to keep her away from Fili and Kili if you can. If not… send Ori. 

The journey back was uneventful, it passed slowly and I must confess something. Something I’ve been hiding from you for some time Thorin. I’ve started Fading, my mother faded so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised and at least I know it won’t hurt. I’ve been fading for some time, long before I left Erebor but our daughter has given me something to hold on for. I will hold on as long as I can Thorin but between old age and fading I’m not sure how long I will have so please return to yourself and come quickly. Be the noble hero I know you are and sweep our daughter off her feet, make her a princess of Erebor and don’t let her remember the pain losing me. 

I’m waiting Thorin, waiting for you to come and save us. I think that if I could feel your kiss, perhaps just once more, and know that you loved me still I would be able to finally let go. Let go of the pain, the hurt and the past, finally move on and return to the earth in peace knowing you’d take care of our little princess.

It’s time Thorin, I have her seed in hand and she’s ready to grow. I can tell she will be as stone headed as her Adad already, I wish you could be here with my Thorin. I love you.

Always yours, 

Bilbo Baggins…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just figured out that all the italic don't copy across... Mahal Damn It!


	16. All wounds Heal

By the time the Dwarves and Hobbitlings ventured back towards Bagend it was well into evening but they were greeted to the Smial brimming with light and the wafting smells of delicious cooking. Donna and Frodo were sent in first to scope out the scene, the snuck in with Hobbit stealth but ran back out with Dwarven clumsiness. 

“Uncle Bilbo is singing!” Frodo gasped out

“In the Kitchen!” Donna added, both young Hobbits staring at each other in surprise as grins began to tug at their faces. “He hasn’t done that in years…” she clarified before grabbing the nearest Dwarven hand, Dwalin’s by chance, and dragging the attached Dwarf into the Hobbit Hole where Bilbo was indeed singing and humming in the kitchen as he stirred some concoction in a bowl on his hip. 

He stopped upon seeing them and offered the widest grin either had seen on Bilbo’s face in longer than they cared to assess, though it was hard to miss the puffy red rims of his eyes. 

“You’ve got impeccable timing, I need you lot to set up the dining room. There’s no way we’ll fit everyone in as it currently is. Well hope to it!” Bilbo made a shooing motion with his spoon and went back to humming, effectively dismissing the grumble of Dwarves staring at him.

“I don’t remember him being like this after a strop back in Erebor” Kili whispered to Frodo, only for a well-aimed apple to hit him in the back of the head for his troubles. “Youch!” 

The other Dwarves snickered amongst themselves but did as they were bid with the notable exception of the missing Thorin. 

Once the food was set out, the table laid and most of the inhabitants of the smial suitably fed Bilbo surveyed the room, noting the still empty chair. “It’s getting late and Thorin’s still out, I’ll go look for him. Clod head is probably lost again.” The laughter followed Bilbo out the door before suddenly going eerily silent, Bilbo figured they’d either realised he’d likely be alone with Thorin when he found him or picket up on the reference to his returned memories. Either way the Hobbit left them to their flounders as he went in search of a surly Dwarven King on a clear moonlit night in the Shire. 

Bilbo found Thorin stretched out and star gazing in the field which surrounded the party tree, lying on his back with his hands stretched back behind his head. 

Bilbo sat down next to the silent Dwarf and looked up at the familiar starts partially hidden by the ever reaching branches of the tree above. 

“You know, you did promise me a Shire wedding one day…” Bilbo said after a few minutes of silence. When Thorin turned around to look at the Hobbit at though he’d lost his mind Bilbo simply smiled gently and kissed his Dwarf. “I knew you’d find me, we just got lost on the way.” He whispered against stunned lips which cautiously kissed him back. 

It wasn’t perfect by anyone’s standards and it would take them both a long time to heal but the love was still there which made it all worth it. And if they spent the rest of that night in each other’s arms, under the starts and exploring that love… well no one needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An unknown amount of time later: 
> 
> Just because I can’t get this idea out of my head and it makes me laugh… This may be a bit TMI for male readers but you might see the amusement of it… who knows. 
> 
> Content Warning = Shark Week/Aunty Flow/ The Red River/ The Blood Moon/ Menstruation ;)

It was a peaceful morning in the Shire, everywhere that was except the Smial at the top of the hill with the green door. That particular Smial was woken by the sounds of screaming, horrific and deafening screams of a young Dwobbit lass.

Bilbo was awake at the first panicked cry, his body trained after years of parenting to know something was wrong. He shoved Thorin heavily and caused the Dwarf to fall out of their bed onto the floor as he snatched up his dressing gown and rushed to his daughter’s room, the cries becoming shrieks. Bilbo could hear the other Dwarves waking, saw Frodo pop his head out from his own door and rushed into his daughter’s room. Bilbo turned the gas control on the lamp and flooded the room with light only to come up short, his mouth dropping open at the sight before him. 

Blood, there was blood everywhere. 

Donna was curled up in the corner of her bed, hands, night gown and sheets stained with the bright red substance. 

“Da!” She cried out, her voice wavering as she stared at her red stained hands. Bilbo rushed to his daughter just as Thorin burst into the room, tunic and trousers hastily thrown on (back to front but at this point no one cared) and sword raised. He took in the scene automatically and dropped his sword, a smile settling on his face. 

“Congratulation Donna,” Thorin cheered but stopped as the fearful eyes of his daughter and the rage filled eyes of his spouse turned on him. 

“Congratulations?!” Bilbo shouted incredulously, “Our daughter is bleeding, we don’t need congratulations we need a healer. Stop standing their like a lump and get Oin!” Bilbo went back to fussing over Donna trying to find out where the bleeding originated. “Where does it hurt love, where have you cut yourself…?”

“Bilbo, she’s okay. Donna’s not hurt, she’s reaching her maturity is all…” Thorin attempted to sooth the Hobbits but at Bilbo’s narrowed glare he went to fetch Oin, sending the other concerned Dwarves back to their beds with a shake of his head. 

Once Thorin returned with Oin Donna was in a clean nightdress and Bilbo was stripping the sheets from her bed. 

“You pair better have a damn good explanation as to what is happening to my daughter…” Bilbo growled. Donna was staring blankly at her still blood marked hands as she sat on the lid of her blanket box.

“Bilbo, it is perfectly simple lad. Donna’s body is making the change toward Dam-hood.”Oin began, ignoring Bilbo’s glare. “She is leaving behind her child years and her body is making certain changes to allow her to carry child when the time comes.” Both Bilbo’s and Donna’s faces paled at this news. 

“You mean she’ll have children the Dwarvish way?” Bilbo gasped, holding his daughter’s shaking frame. “What is happening to her?”

“I’m a freak…” Donna cried, burying her head into Bilbo’s plush dressing gown as tears fell heavily from her blue eyes. 

“You’re not a freak darling,” Thorin tried to sooth but the girl simply cried louder. 

“Donna, this is nothing to be worried about lass. Most Dwarf damns experience the bleeding once every five or so years as their bodies cleans and this takes a week to two at most, I’ve heard that human women go through this process once a month for several days. Being a Dwobbit I am unsure how often you will bleed but it is a perfectly natural process and nothing to be afraid of. It may be accompanied by some pains, some mood swings and some unusual cravings but this too is normal. You’ll learn what to expect from your body as you grow, best thing for you to do now is take a nice warm bath and relax. 

Donna nodded but as she brushed her hand across her face to wipe her tears she paused and her mouth dropped. 

“My face… it’s… it’s… Oh Mahal, No!” Before Bilbo could ask Donna ran out of the room and slammed the door. 

“Ah this is also the time when a dam’s beard starts coming through, congratulations to you both” Thorin beamed and Bilbo groaned as he watched Oin leave and distantly heard the bathroom door slam shut. 

“This is your fault…” Bilbo groused as he collected the soiled sheets once more. 

“Yes, I suppose it it…” Thorin said entirely too happy, “I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

Thorin kissed the tip of Bilbo’s nose as he took the sheets from the Hobbit and with all the grace of a King set about cleaning them. 

“I suppose its official now,” Bilbo sighed as he leaned against the door frame looking into the laundry, “we have a teenager, welcome to parenthood.”

Thorin simply smiled at him and continued with his task, back to front clothes and all, as Bilbo left to start on breakfast a blissfully domestic smile on his slowly aging face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. That's officially the end. 
> 
> <3 Thank you for sticking with me to see this out, you're all absolutely lovely!


End file.
